


For the First Time in Nearly A Decade

by teiidae



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: F/M, Pillow Talk, Rare Pairings, the mind plays tricks on you, two aquas for the price of one, xemnas is a sad man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 22:20:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18860263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teiidae/pseuds/teiidae
Summary: Xemnas is determined to force the Chamber of Repose to give him concrete answers and when he fails, a vacation is in order. What does one do on those nights where dreams and reality merge? What happens when the whim that defines you is and is not your own? What happens when it rains?





	For the First Time in Nearly A Decade

The halls of The Castle That Never Was were woefully quiet, settled for slumber in the latest hours of the day cycle as the last of Organization XIII returned from their assigned duties and curled up in their beds. The last to lay rigid in bed was Saix, as he had to pull later and later hours to accommodate for Demyx's lack of punctuality. As each Nobody fell into uneasy slumber, some plagued by discomfort and others accosted by unending nightmares, Xemnas calculated the next day's tasks. Each member was accounted for, represented by a series of sigils spread across Xemnas's inner eyes and located in their respective rooms. A twisted and surreal fondness rose in Xemnas's throat before being squashed by his heeled boots clicking against the off white floors.

This was his only moment of respite. Only after he robbed his Organization of their thoughts and feelings, calmed their nightmares, and consumed their uncertainty, was he allowed to rest on his own terms. Only after all his friends were distilled could he explore his own interests. Unwind in safety without the critical eye of the traitors and the wolves at his back. It was a rare opportunity. He couldn't continue to sever all the Nobodies under his employ from their own consciousnesses. They'd eventually fold from the lack of sanity, but, for now, Xemnas was a singularity in a world of his own design.

The echoes accompanied him to his favored room. Deep within the hard angles of The Castle That Never Was lay the Chamber of Repose, a room specifically connecting him to his past, though in all the years since discovering it, he'd never been able to fully understand it. It was a connection, but the other side was inert, and Xemnas never sensed anything other than his own body while he sat there and spoke into the darkness. Tonight, he intended to change that. Tonight, he was going to wring understanding from the empty armor and he would bind himself to that chair for as long as it took to glean meaning from the hollow shell that gazed upon him with such kindness that it both relieved and infuriated him.

When the Chamber of Repose welcomed him, the supple brown color in his cheeks flushed away and he grew ashen. Immediately, there was something amiss. The genial warmth that normally wafted from the darkness was pallid. Chilly and aggressive. Something was wrong and he had to collect his resolve in his hands before entering, lest the gnashing teeth find his throat and tear it open while the rest of the castle lay comatose. Xemnas briefly considered rousing the entire castle, though the aggressive windchill threatened him with total severance, a concept that Xemnas could not fathom, but feared anyway. With his dignity in tow, submissive though still present, Xemnas entered the Chamber of Repose and calmed himself as the door snapped shut behind him, a predator's teeth crushing bone.

He took his place on the throne in the center of the dark grey room, surrounded by twelve sigils glowing against the wall, each a faint color indicative of collective, though muted, life. His friends...no, his tools, fueling his perseverance. He'd already convinced himself that that was what they were and it was far too late to change that. Far far too late.

Xemnas relaxed in his throne, arms at rest and feet firmly planted on the floor in equal parts apprehension and anticipation. The room blackened, only barely illuminated by the faintly colored sigils that pulsed softly in dreamless sleep. The silence was deafening, sucking the thoughts out of Xemnas’s brain and projecting them onto the room though nothing physically changed. A quick shift of his perspective brought forth the armor, gunmetal greys and blue lined with black, in a heap before him. Empty of life, but still looking at him with a sobering love.

He desperately wished the armor would avert its gaze. He desperately wish that she would stop looking at him like she was proud of him. Like she was glad that they were sharing this time together despite everything being his fault. Despite everything going wrong in every conceivable way. He wished she would just yell at him. He wasn’t sure why. It didn’t matter in the long run. His chest voided itself of emotion and Xemnas took a rattling breath, shaken though he hadn’t uttered a word yet.

“Are you there?”

The uncertainty in his voice troubled him. He didn’t _want_ anyone to be there. He wasn’t even totally sure who should have been in the first place. Someone he knew. Someone he loved? Someone deeply important to him without a name or a face. Only a black visor and inanimate armor.

Embarrassment crept over him upon the realization that he had no idea where he was supposed to go from here. He’d resigned himself for at least a few days to study the mysteries and get a concrete answer as to what this chamber was for and how he was suppose to use it to its fullest potential. Did he just keep talking? For how long?

“It’s me again,” Xemnas added, accentuating his statement with longing silence. Please answer.

The armor’s expression didn’t change, though there was a wheezing that came from the chest cavity. Xemnas watched, his amber eyes focused on the pieces, searching for some sign of life. Some sign of _something_ that would tell him who this was to him. A close friend? Family? Anything familiar? Sweat beaded along his brow as he concentrated on the armor, willing it to reconstruct itself and speak directly to him. Explain why he felt so morose when he watched the pile of light metals with a longing rooted directly into his guts.

The stiffness in his joints grew more and more apparent, but he could not let his attention wander away from the task at hand. He remained still, though his back tensed into brick and his legs filled with liquid lead, all the while, balking under the intensity of the armor’s glimmer. He mentally begged for it to speak. Please.

Please say something…

“I have the aching of familiarity dancing across my pitifully weak memories of emotion,” Xemnas said finally, his lips arranged in a grimace, though they were also thick with intrigue. Darkened by a myriad of confused thoughts that were filtered away before they reached his throat. “And it fascinates me to no end how I can speak to you - whatever you are - and you will not respond no matter what I say. No matter how much I am willing to expose myself to you. Perhaps, then, you are no friend of mine.”

The acrid taste of metal poisoned his senses, an overwhelming and bloody viscera coating him from the inside out. That was a lie and he knew it. The armor remained motionless, though Xemnas envisioned bone and sinew meshing together inside the casing, using brittle tendons to stitch itself together before his very eyes.

Goosebumps razed his body and he trembled, apologetic in the face of the truth. There was no explicit thought, no words to accompany this feeling of dense mistrust and crippled dialogue. He was at a loss for words because there were no words to describe this. He could see in the reflection of himself that there was someone on the other side. Decidedly hopeful as his chest warmed in response to stimuli he could not perceive. The armor hadn’t moved. He’d imagined his own demise.

Still, he perched on the throne, a vulture cloaked in darkness, waiting for verbiage from the pile of metal. A whisper. A howl. Anything other than a stiff lip and imagined feelings. The predator within the room groaned into Xemnas, licking at his lips and clacking its teeth noisily. Xemnas remained insistent, however, it became clear that his time had been wasted. No matter how long he sat within the den, he had accomplished nothing. The raised hackles of this sensation had been more patient than he, and he faltered, releasing his choke hold on the Organization’s collective conscious and allowing the tendrils of life to seep back into the cold walls.

The weight of his inability to control his outcomes draped across his shoulders and whispered into his ears, a demonic serpent with a tongue of silver. Narrow eyes watching his every move. The lead drained from his veins and Xemnas pulled his heavy body from the throne, defeated by the silence once more. He was no smarter, no wiser than he had been days ago. Weeks. His body swayed uneasily, devoid of energy. How long had he sat here? How long had she not spoken to him?

The Chamber of Repose belched Xemnas out into the stairwell, masking the pleas for him to come back. Xemnas felt a cool wind wash through him as the door slid shut and he made his way up the stairwell, cursing his body’s weakness as he leaned on the wall for support more frequently than he would have liked. Far more than he would have admitted. Chilling whispers tied to the draft wound around Xemnas’s stunning white hair and into his mouth, kissing his tongue with realization. The dark circles under his eyes pulled on his lashes.

The moment Xemnas stepped through a corridor of darkness and entered his office, like clockwork, there was a gentle rapping on his door and it slid open revealing a rather ornery looking Saix. He looked refreshed, however, though he had been sleeping for a few weeks. Xemnas looked around the pristine condition of his office, noting a thick layer of dust on his desk. Months...

“Lord Xemnas,” Saix started, though Xemnas held a hand up, instantly silencing him.

“Put up a notice for vacation,” Xemnas said without looking at Saix. “And leave me be.”

Saix nodded without hesitation and exited, though Xemnas could sense the flare of his nostrils and his eyes gathering the same information. Xemnas took a deep breath, and with heavy footsteps, climbed an adjacent staircase to his chambers, which looked like they hadn’t been touched in years. Nobodies didn’t require sleep to function. Sleep was something that felt as close to humanity as they could possibly achieve and Xemnas had long since abandoned the notion of rest once he realized that his mind was sharper without useless dreams to muddy his thoughts and warp his perceptions. However, for one night, he wanted to allow his mind a chance to rest. To reorganize and regroup before descending back into the Chamber of Repose to try again.

Perhaps, he wondered, he would remember who that armor belonged to. Perhaps he would remember who that was to him. A desperate thirst for that knowledge lured Xemnas's coat into a heap on the floor. It was what convinced him to shower and preen. It was what made him stand in dark purple boxers and open his wardrobe to pick through the endless black and silver to two tightly sealed boxes in the back, nestled in darkness but bound in white. His throat closed and his hands wandered in doubt, almost fighting to remain ignorant, but he felt the strong cardboard and madness jutted through him, convincing him yet again to perform actions in preparation for something that loomed over him. Morbid curiosity and that thirst for _knowing_.

He had to _know_.

He dug the boxes out of the closet, flicking his eyes to his chamber door to ensure that satisfying click before clutching one of the white cubes to his chest and stealing away to the foot of his bed. It groaned with disuse, sinking under Xemnas's weight awkwardly. Xemnas hooked his finger under the lid and lifted a single corner, peeking into the gap and crushing the box closed again when he was met with more white. Not this one.

Not this one.

He dropped the box on the floor and kicked it under his bed in haste, his blood pumping and deepening the shades of brown in his palms and around his ears. The blankness of his wardrobe beckoned for him one more, dark hands reaching for him, drawing him in. Xemnas stood and rushed to the darkness, plucking the other white box from the depths and ripping the lid off. Another white coat, coarse and woven, accompanied by slacks and a worn purple ruffled ascot. No! Not this one. Had he lost it?

Xemnas tore the black coats off their hangers, stripping each one off and tearing seams in his scramble. It had to be here! It had to be here! He'd been so careful to hide those reminders. The only reminders of who he really was. The only reminders of inconceivable concepts and teasing. That elusive variation of Xemnas that had no name and no memories, but desperately clung to those woven fabrics like they were the last lifeline for a version of him that hadn't existed for more than ten years. He had to find them. He had to find them because that version of him was the one that the Chamber of Repose welcomed. That version of Xemnas was the only one that the dead armor would whisper to!

Ripped coat pieces gathered in the bottom of the closet and Xemnas picked through them as well, stiff and hurt. His arms were so heavy and his breathless gasps could barely feed oxygen to his dead body. His skin burned. His eyes were on fire, searing the gold away and leaving only the smears of blue skies in their wake. Gold rings reformed around his irises and the burning seeped into his skin, boiling that control away and he became ferocious, scattering scraps of leather in his frantic and chaotic pleas.

Please.

Please!

In the very bottom, stuffed in the corner and wrinkled neglectfully, was a rumpled shirt. Xemnas wheezed as he laid his eyes upon a physical memory. It chastised him, humbled him in a way that curled in the hollow of his neck as he rose to his feet, flagging the article. It was a dark grey, almost black and it was creased, unattractive in its unkempt condition. Xemnas tried to smooth out the wrinkles to no avail, and heat pooled in his hands. He wanted to fix the garment and tear it apart simultaneously. Singe holes into it so it couldn’t feel so familiar anymore.

But while he clutched the shirt in his hands, he felt compelled to clean it. It was absurd. He had no idea what this thing meant to him and he still desired to care for it. Clean it and dote the attention it needed to be restored to proper form. While still undressed, Xemnas ignored the piles of Organization coats strewn about the floor and he rushed into his bathroom, spinning the knobs and filling the tub with warm, soapy water. He plunged the wrinkled shirt into the water and scrubbed it clean. He didn’t want to think about where the grime had come from, or what it was as it left the threads of the shirt and dirtied the water. It was easier to just clean it and let his mind focus on this single task.

The water was ice cold before Xemnas had finally resigned from scrubbing. His fingers were rubbed raw and his wrists hurt. The shirt had been thoroughly cleansed of all filth and when Xemnas had wrung it out, it was immaculate, though still very wet. He leaned against the side of the bathtub, water dripping down his legs as he stared at the shirt in bereavement. This part of himself that was still so dirty. He’d scrubbed it for hours and it was still so dirty and his skin felt as though it were crawling, like the grime had burrowed into his skin and was weaving a new home just under the surface.

It was dirty. _He_ was dirty.

Xemnas sagged. He had to pull himself together before he snapped like a twig. His breath was shaky as he got to his feet once more, not bothering to drain the tub as he wandered back out into his room. It felt so much larger than it had been before. The previously enormous and immaculate window to the dark sky of The World That Never Was had become opaque and was lined by mirrors. Though the shirt was still wet, Xemnas idly dried it within his hands, red crackling energy skating across his flesh and sucking the water out of the fabric and out of reality. It took far too long for him to realize that it was dry.

The mirrored windows warped and swayed as Xemnas willed them back into windows once more. The rest of the castle couldn’t notice that he was losing grip on himself. The lord of their entire continued existence. The mirrors remained stubborn, and Xemnas inched his way over to them, wringing the grey fabric in his hands. He was horrified by what he encountered.

It was him reflected in each mirror. He still stock still and, he could see the fluttering of the fabric grow more and more violent, as if possessed. The most intriguing part of his appearance was not the softened facial features, or the kindness that struggled to bask in his now blue eyes, but thick locks of loamy brown where there should have been white and silver. A total stranger stood in the mirror staring back at him, looking almost feral once their eyes locked.

Xemnas closed his eyes and the mirrors were gone instantly. He grit his teeth and ran his thumbs across the shirt fabric. It was so light and airy. Breathable, and he wasn’t sure what made him pull it over his head, but it fit perfectly, tailor made just for him. It was comforting and familiar and the buzzing under his skin stopped as the tumultuous nature of his psyche calmed. Xemnas pressed his hand and against his chest, feeling for signs of true life, though he desperately willed for silence and so the silence came. The mirrors did not return.

He slid into bed quietly, surrounded by clouds of warmth that covered him and chained him to the sheets. The sleep came instantly, though it was accompanied by a near constant shift of reality. He needed more blankets, and so there were more blankets. He needed more pillows, and so there were more pillows. The second he grew too stifled, the offending linens disappeared. And reappeared. And disappeared.

Within the hour, Xemnas shot up in bed, shaking and gripping fistfuls of sheets until his knuckles were nearly white. He was in darkness, the windows blacked out again not by mirrors, but by something else that shifted eerily in place. Like a corridor of darkness stretched across the glass. Xemnas blinked owlishly, crinkling his nose in concentration as he forced his eyes to focus in the darkness. The overwhelming sense of a predator’s eyes on his own drew Xemnas completely away from sleep. Still silent, the air chilled almost to a frost and Xemnas’s breaths came out in small puffs of moisture. From the darkness, the predator opened its eyes and, cloaked in shadow, came a woman with piercing gold irises and a sinister smile. She looked hungry. Starved.

“You spent far too long in that chamber, haven’t you?” She sounded almost concerned, though her too-many teeth sparkled as she spoke, a mesmerizing sight. “And look what you’ve done to me. Tricked yourself into turning me into you.”

Xemnas was speechless, captivated by her presence and it stirred something in him he had thought he’d buried. A very gentle and sincere trickle of emotion. He didn’t know this woman, but he _did_ know her. He knew her in ways that kindled a fire in the pit of his stomach, and upon seeing her like this, the cavity in his chest ached. He wanted to beg her for forgiveness. He’d done this to her.

“You have no idea who I am, do you?” she asked, halfway between amused and offended.

Xemnas didn’t like the way she looked at him. That hunger in her eyes. A possessiveness that only reflected from within his own empty shell. It stemmed from the same well as those microscopic emotions. The same well that wanted to both plead and protect. Xemnas never experienced such a sensation before and the woman clothed in dark blues and red merely watched him slowly retreat in fear of her.

“Take your time, Terra,” she whispered, smoke trailing from her mouth. She shifted to Xemnas's side and cupped his cheek with a clawed hand. Even still, her touch was gentle. Forgiving. “You never were the smartest one in the room.”

The embers throbbed.

“You are mistaken--”

“I'm not,” the woman said, cutting Xemnas's words out of his mouth mercilessly. “You don't even remember who I am. I know who I'm talking to, Xehanort. You can have him back in a moment.”

Xemnas's throat dried up. This woman. She commanded the room - commanded him - and he bent to her so easily that he felt shame followed quickly by relief. She stared at him for a long time, reading his soul as she coaxed waxy threads of false life from his chest and into her claws. That hunger snapped at her throat and she licked her lips in anticipation. Xemnas found himself doing the same and his stomach lurched as he tried in vain to understand and assess her. Her skin was cold, her lips full and a deep red, her mouth lined with sharp teeth. She was agonizingly familiar, masked with darkness and warped by something outside his sphere of recollection. Xemnas breathed her in and was overwhelmed by darkness, but underneath the musty death, lay combs of honey and fresh flowers. Xemnas's lips pressed together in a thin line.

“Maybe I can help you,” the woman offered, deceptively soft though she felt as though she were slowly wrapping her hands around Xemnas's throat.

Before Xemnas could formulate a response, the woman peeled the metal adornment from her shoulder and let it fall to the floor. It made no sound and Xemnas almost questioned it but the woman had his full attention and a small noise of want in his throat as she stripped her flowing sleeves and dropped them as well. Her skin was so pale compared to her clothing she shimmered like an apparition. Xemnas felt nothing, though he thought perhaps he had lost his mind. Was this the woman who lived in the armor?

“Yes.”

Xemnas opened his mouth but words did not come to him easily. Forever stuck in the throat of someone else. He wanted to call to her. He needed to call to her but the voice that knew her was gone and had been for nearly a decade.

“You know who I am.”

More clothing was stripped from her form. Belts and metals, shorts and tassels. Soon, a woman in nothing more than panties and a tank top stood there. She leaned forward and kissed the top of Xemnas's head, and for a moment, Xemnas saw clearly the woman who'd honed her skills alongside him. Briefly, he saw one of his closest friends, a true beacon of light in a very deep, all encompassing darkness. He saw in her the feelings of freedom.

“A-aqua,” Xemnas breathed.

“May we talk?” Aqua asked in earnest. “You've finally cleared your head enough.”

Her laugh was a lungful of fresh ocean breeze, chilling Xemnas and immediately putting him in a state of vulnerability. She crawled into his lap and wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders in an embrace. Xemnas instinctively returned the gesture, bunching sheets between them. Every breath he took made him feel more and more alive. More like himself, more like a single person. A real person, though buried under a thick crust of hopelessness and defeat. He clung dearly to Aqua, her blue tresses tangling in his silver and they shared breath after breath in silence. His shoulders heaved with restraint.

“You must be working so hard,” Aqua mumbled. “You're doing well.”

Xemnas balked, willing his shoulders to cease their incessant trembling. “I'm hurting people and I feel nothing. Don't praise me for that.”

“Who said I was praising you for that? You can't see what I see. I can see that you're working hard and I can see that you're doing well.” Aqua smiled and pulled away, taking a piece of Xemnas's soul with her. She looked so tired and Xemnas could see a dimming light in her eyes. “Can I spend the night with you?”

Xemnas nodded and he shifted so Aqua could nestle into him. She fit so easily into the negative space and filled it entirely with her warmth. Xemnas had his hands in her hair and he ran his fingers across her skin, feeling the blooming flush in her shoulders as she allowed him to explore her body. Those trickles of emotions were fleeting and Aqua constantly morphed before him, swirling from soft lips and sleepy eyes to the starved demon with teeth so hungry for his flesh and eyes demanding attention of a more carnal origin. Xemnas both loved and feared her, completely consumed by those tiny wisps of humanity. He needed her. He needed her and that reflected in the way her eyes followed his. Blue to blue. Gold to gold.

“It's okay’” Aqua said. “I understand that you're not there yet. It's going to take time and I'm going to still be here no matter how far you fall.”

Xemnas blinked, unsure.

“What are you going to do with the time you have left?”

Xemnas took Aqua's hand gently, fearful that he would break the illusion if he squeezed too hard. He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it with a tenderness totally alien to him. Aqua's cheeks turned a delicate but powerful red and her smile was an invitation. Xemnas squeezed her hand, rooting himself in something that was undeniable. Physicality. Aqua was real. As real as any other.

“Can I kiss you?” Xemnas asked. “Please.”

Aqua sighed wistfully, affirmation on her tongue and blotted out by Xemnas's lips meeting hers in gentle union. She was sweet. Tasted of despair, but sweet nevertheless. The moment lasted for an eternity and Xemnas trembled as he deepened that union between them. He had his hands on her, filling the space between them with heated adoration and strands of lust. Every handful of Aqua he could get was complemented by another tender kiss and she spoke to him so softly, asking him for permission to touch him in return. Yes. Yes, this was what he wanted. This familiarity. To lay with another in a space of total exposure.

Her hands electrified him. Tempered his focus into a malleable metal. He moaned with longing, the heat pooled in his stomach spreading through him. He hardened in her hand and she begged him to grab her more forcefully. Make her real. Make her melt to him.

His hands snaked under her tank top, skating across her scars and muscles, caressing the curve of her breasts and the teasing the firm nipples. Aqua sighed, her hands still groping between Xemnas's legs, heated kisses growing more desperate. Xemnas clung to her, words escaping him entirely as he clawed for more and more shared skin. He held Aqua so tightly and he rutted against her thighs, grinding against her pathetically, wordlessly begging for her to come to him. Wordlessly begging for her attention as she wrapped her arms around him. He couldn't speak. He could speak to her but she listened so intently even as he crushed her against him.

“I miss you’” Xemnas wheezed, his arousal tightly winding in his voice.

“I know,” Aqua replied softly. Her hands stayed soft, stroking gently even though Xemnas's thrusts were chaotic and uneven. She pressed her hands against Xemnas's strong chest, blessing every inch of him with attention, a goddess made physical. He crooned with appreciation.

“Please don't leave me again,” Xemnas whispered, straining to keep his grunts quiet. “Please don't go.”

Xemnas came as Aqua kissed him a final time, squirting white strings between her thighs as she brushed her fingers against his lips and smiled. Her blue eyes shimmered in response with a cruel mix of sadness and reciprocated longing. Xemnas wilted before her, but she remained still. Xemnas ran his fingers through her hair, unintelligible words of praise and thankfulness tumbling out of him though they made no sense and Aqua did not respond. She merely stayed with Xemnas through the night, a comforting presence in an otherwise voided world. Xemnas couldn't sleep while he had her there. He couldn't let his mind wander. This was his reality and he believed it with unflinching faith, even as the hours slid by.

Xemnas blinked slowly, taking in Aqua's soft breaths. She was still there, still real. Though when he touched her hair and kissed her forehead, she felt much softer than before, bending to accommodate him. He grabbed her harder and she deflated in his hands, disappearing into swathes of white and grey silk sheets and plush pillows. Xemnas scrambled awkwardly, one hand covered in drying semen. He shot up in a panic, scanning his room for signs of life. For signs of Aqua. When he was met with bitter silence, Xemnas glanced out the window at the nearly moonless sky. He was surrounded by mountains of blankets and pillows and he was sticky with cold sweat.

A feral and uncontrollable sadness stuck itself to Xemnas's chest and he gathered the sheets in his hands, willing for Aqua to return to him. She didn't. And she wouldn't for a very long time even as he envisioned Aqua's voice floating up to him from the Chamber of Repose, imaginary in every way.

There was a gentle rapping at his door and for the first time in nearly a decade, it began to rain on The World That Never Was.

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this for a buddy on Twitter.


End file.
